


A little hand lube between friends

by lazarusthefirst



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Bottom!Stiles, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Party, Sciles, Skittles, Underage Drinking, bros being bros, pack banter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-12
Updated: 2015-01-12
Packaged: 2018-03-07 07:21:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3166256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lazarusthefirst/pseuds/lazarusthefirst
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>‘Allison, is this lube?’ Stiles asked, who was rummaging through her bag, Isaac having discarded it on the bed.</p><p>‘No,’ Isaac said immediately, just as Allison said ‘What does it look like?’</p><p>There was a brief silence.</p><p>‘Um, that’s not mine,’ said Isaac quietly.</p><p>‘Riiiight,’ Stiles said, raising his eyebrows and looking at the little pink tube. ‘Well it doesn’t say “for external use only”.’</p>
            </blockquote>





	A little hand lube between friends

**Author's Note:**

> ["I have this new hand cream and it's more like lube than cream? Wtf?"](https://twitter.com/ohnoalfie/status/554657885356302338/)
> 
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> 
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> 
> 5am porn again, what of it

‘Dude,’ groaned Stiles, flopping down in the chair like a fish. ‘I’m so bored.’

‘Just two more pages,’ Scott muttered, adding another line of yellow highlighter to the already yellow page.

‘It looks like someone peed all over that,’ commented Stiles, drumming his fingers on the armrest.

Scott glanced up at him. ‘Do you need to pee again?’

‘How did you know?’ asked Stiles, launching himself out of the chair again and bolting for the bathroom.

Scott grinned after him, shaking his head. Stiles had consumed four mountain dews in preparation for their all-night study session. So far he’d peed six times and it was only just after 10pm. Their last exam was at 9 in the morning, lasting for two hours, followed by approximately twenty-four hours of drunk and disorderly behaviour. The enforced month of sobriety had them all feeling restless, especially Scott and the other weres, who had suffered through a full moon of trying to study in between fighting down the urge to burst out of their skin.

‘I’m bored again,’ Stiles said, walking back into the kitchen.

‘Quick, test me,’ Scott said, shoving the book at him. ‘That section.’

Stiles sat down with a sigh and cast his eyes over the page. ‘Ok, which uhh … which part of the male anatomy is the best for sticking in things, tongue or fingers?’

‘Stiles, all you have to do is ask the questions I underlined.’

‘Trick question,’ replied Stiles, turning the page. ‘The answer is, of course, the penis. You lose five points.’

‘We’re doing points now?’ Scott asked, rubbing his temple. ‘I thought it was gold stars.’

‘Changed my mind,’ shrugged Stiles. ‘The stars were too fun to draw and I got distracted.’

‘Shocking’ said Scott dryly. ‘Come on, ask me something.’

‘Okaaaaay,’ sang Stiles, making a show of examining the page. ‘For ten points and four and a half gold stars, what does meiosis of a diploid cell result in?’

Scott settled down again. ‘Four haploid cells,’ he answered confidently.

‘Correct,’ Stiles said, flipping the page. ‘And boring.’

‘Do you want me to quiz you?’ Scott offered.

‘And relinquish my power as quiz master?’ Stiles asked, nose wrinkling. ‘Please. I’m learning from your success.’

Scott raised his hands in defeat, smiling as Stiles quizzed him with growing enthusiasm for almost ten minutes before he started to fidget again.

‘For eleven points and six stars, which part of Stiles Stilinski’s body is the most impressive?’

‘Trick question,’ Scott said immediately, leaning back in his chair and gesturing with a pencil. ‘There are no impressive parts of - _ow_.’

‘Minus five hundred points and six thousand stars,’ Stiles said primly. ‘You want me to go on? Give me the book back then - oh relax, it barely broke the skin. You’ll heal, you big child.’

‘You’re off mountain dew for life,’ declared Scott, rubbing his head.

‘Won’t matter after tomorrow,’ said Stiles gleefully. ‘I might bring a flask into the exam and start drinking as soon as they call pencils down.’

It was tempting, Scott had to agree. They were all wound a little tightly these days. And with the concoction of just enough aconite perfected courtesy of Lydia, who naturally found time for such recreational activities as well as studying, they could finally all party on equal footing again. Though Scott had made a mental note to cut Liam off at some stage. The pack had already suffered enough blows to the head to seriously reduce their intelligence, and Scott was determined to preserve some of Liam’s potential by limiting his aconite intake.

He sat back in his chair, idly kicking the leg of Stiles’, and wondered when he’d become a pseudo-father to his unruly friends.

‘Doesn’t look like you’re thinking about biology over there, Scotty.’ Stiles was resting his head on his arms, blinking over at Scott in that quiet, endearing way he sometimes had, just when Scott needed to talk.

Scott shrugged. ‘I guess I’m just restless,’ he admitted.

Stiles grinned. ‘You need to let loose. Tomorrow night is going to be so good for you. I mean, not physically. Physically it’s gonna wreck you, healing or not. But you need to do something crazy. Preferably with me.’

Why did that make Scott more excited than it probably should? Scott’s eyes followed Stiles as he bounced around the kitchen looking for something else to distract him, watching the sway of his hips and the reach of his arm. Yeah, Scott was protective of his pack. But Stiles had always been more than that to him.

‘You ready for more questions?’ he asked pointedly, as Stiles opened the top cabinet where they kept the canned goods for the third time.

‘Sure,’ agreed Stiles. He perched on the chair obediently and scanned the book for about thirty seconds before asking, ‘Which organ in the body can empty and refill itself the fastest?’

‘You need to pee _again_?’

‘Sorry.’ Stiles was but a cloud of dust as he legged it out of the kitchen again. Scott laughed tiredly. Tomorrow night would be good for all of them. Stiles was about to explode with boredom, and Scott could feel an itch under his skin whenever they were close these days. Maybe it was the general tension of exams and fraying tempers, or maybe he just hadn’t gotten laid in a really long time. Either way, something was about to give.

Stiles didn’t start drinking in the exam, but it was a close thing.

‘Literally just inject alcohol into my veins,’ Stiles declared, as they trotted down the front steps of the school. Scott was exhausted - they really had stayed up all night - but he was elated too. That was a solid pass, if not an actual decent grade, and now he had the long months of summer ahead to completely forget everything about it.

‘Quick, Scott, seriously,’ Stiles pleaded with him. ‘There’s _knowledge_ in my brain and I don’t _want_ it.’

‘Alcohol will burn it out,’ Malia said grimly, walking beside them. ‘The sooner the better.’

Kira and Lydia were leaning against Kira’s car, doing what looked like a post-mortem on the exam. Allison had thrown herself over the hood, exposing her long, pale limbs to the sun.

‘Make them stop,’ she groaned, one arm thrown over her face.

‘You can lie on someone else’s car,’ Lydia reminded her, barely interrupting Kira.

‘True, but I also can’t move, so.’ Allison peeked out at them from under her arm. ‘I’d ask how it went for you guys, but I might throw up.’

‘No throwing up until tonight,’ insisted Stiles. ‘Where’s babywolf?’

‘I’m here,’ Liam said. He was standing behind Scott, looking ruffled. He and Mason had been finished for two days already.

‘Well do me a favour and don’t stand behind someone taller than you,’ Stiles said. ‘Oh wait, that’s everyone.’

‘Shut up Stiles,’ said Isaac casually, shouldering past him to lean over Allison. ‘Hello.’

Allison beamed up at him and offered her cheek for a kiss. ‘Hi. How was French?’

‘Don’t answer that!’ said Stiles stridently. ‘No exam talk! It’s over!’

‘Stiles,’ said Scott, putting a hand on his shoulder. ‘Chill.’

‘I am so fucking sick of exams,’ Stiles whispered in a tortured voice, giving Scott the most desperate doe-eyed look. ‘Please take me away from here.’

‘You’re driving, buddy,’ Scott grinned.

‘Yes,’ Stiles breathed triumphantly, holding up his keys. ‘I am. Let’s bounce.’

The day was long, and both of them wanted to be fresh for the party so there was a limit to the amount of day drinking they could do beyond their traditional necking of an entire beer in the front room of Stiles’ house as soon as they got home. Scott skulled the entire thing with no trouble - being a werewolf made you awesome at many things - and Stiles coughed and spilled half of his, but they got it all down and belched appreciatively at the end of it all.

‘Fantastic,’ gasped Stiles. ‘Let’s get high.’

Much of the afternoon was lost to oblivion and giggles. The alcohol had been pre-purchased for this very reason. Scott and Stiles spread out on the Sheriff’s well-kept back lawn and smoked until everything was hazy and hilarious. They ordered pizza with all the fixings, and afterwards napped the nap of the most exhausted students until they were woken by a light sprinkling of rain.

‘Is it time to party yet?’ Stiles asked groggily.

They showered and took shots of mountain dew (‘You’re cut off!’ yelled Scott, snatching it away from Stiles) and got dressed in their finest. When Lydia threw a party she threw it all the way out of the park. Her golden rule that if you’re going to throw up in the pool, you’re going to do it looking like a rockstar, or else.

They drove over to Malia’s at around eight and lined the jeep up behind Kira’s blue car and Mason’s silver one. Malia’s father was very relaxed but also slightly afraid of his daughter, so she pretty much had the run of the place.

‘Allison and Isaac will be over later,’ Kira said, looking up from her phone. She was kneeling on the ground before the big mirror and applying makeup, Malia standing over her and doing the same. ‘They’re helping Lydia set up and staying at hers tonight, so they’ll carpool us all over.’

‘Fab,’ Stiles said, giving her a thumbs up.

Mason and Liam were perched happily on Malia’s giant bed, sipping from cans. ‘I’m watching you,’ Scott said seriously, pointing at Liam, who tried not to wilt under his gaze.

Stiles blew a kiss to Malia, who winked at him in the mirror. ‘Tunes?’

‘You know where they are,’ replied Malia.

Soon the room was vibrating, and Scott spared a moment to appreciate the wisdom of Mr Tate, who had seen them all coming in and promptly left the house, muttering for Malia to have a good time.

It was so pleasant, Scott reflected, to just be hanging out in Malia’s room, watching the girls get ready and chatting to each other. There was a nicet buzz drifting around his head, making him feel very warm and happy towards everyone. He and Stiles had brought beer, but the hard stuff would be at Lydia’s, as well as more supplies of doctored aconite. She had it distributed into little plastic bags to make sure no one took too much. They were the kind you saw drugs being passed around in on television but Kira assured him they were just the little bags they gave her spare piercings in.

‘How many you got now?’ Scott asked, sitting beside Kira and looking at her lipsticks.

Kira stuck out her tongue, displaying the two shiny silver studs of her surface piercing. ‘Four. Kitsunes heal pretty quick too.’

‘Stiles wants to get something pierced,’ Scott said, looking over at where Stiles was rummaging around Malia’s things and giving Liam grief.

Kira snorted. ‘Prince Albert?’

Scott looked at her blankly. ‘What?’

‘It’s a dick piercing,’ Malia said.

‘Who’s got a dick piercing?’ Stiles demanded, whirling around as Kira blushed faintly.

‘Trust you to hear the word dick out of everything else,’ Liam said.

‘Even I didn’t hear it,’ Mason said significantly, taking a drink of his beer and winking at Stiles.

‘Mason, I appreciate a dick just as much as you,’ Stiles said in a tremendously dignified manner, just as there was a lull in the music. ‘I just happen to be far more thirsty.’

‘No shit.’ Isaac’s drawl echoed down the hall, Allison’s laughter chasing it. The music kicked off again as Stiles’ whipped his head around, scenting blood in the water.

‘Easy, Stiles,’ Scott said, raising his eyebrows. Malia grinned, showing teeth.

‘What’s going on kids,’ Allison said, striding into the room, towing Isaac along behind her. She was wearing a sparkly dark blue dress and tennis shoes, car keys and strappy high heels dangling from one hand. Isaac was carrying her purse.

‘Nice,’ Stiles said significantly, grinning at Isaac.

‘Shut up, Stiles,’ Isaac said, entirely unfazed.

‘Two minutes,’ Kira promised Allison, scrambling to find her shoes.

'Take your time,' said Allison, settling herself on a folding chair covered in clothes and whipping a compact out of her bag to check her eyes.

‘Who’s staying here tonight?’ demanded Malia, looking expectant. ‘Besides the little ones.’

Liam and Mason didn’t even bother to protest that one.

‘Um, can I?’ asked Kira, tentatively holding up her hand.

Malia pointed at her bed. ‘Reserved for you, of course. What about you two?’

Scott and Stiles looked at each other and shrugged. ‘If there’s floor we’ll take it,’ Stiles said.

‘Let’s see what happens,’ Scott said carefully, hoping he wasn’t being too obvious. That was good enough for Malia, but he caught Kira giving him a contemplative look.

‘Allison, is this lube?’ Stiles asked, who was rummaging through her bag, Isaac having discarded it on the bed.

‘No,’ Isaac said immediately, just as Allison said ‘What does it look like?’

There was a brief silence.

‘Um, that’s not mine,’ said Isaac quietly.

‘Riiiight,’ Stiles said, raising his eyebrows and looking at the little pink tube. ‘Well it doesn’t _say_ “for external use only”.’

‘Stiles stop looking through my purse,’ Allison said, a smile curving her lips as Isaac blushed furiously and tried to hide behind her.

Finally they were all ready to go. They all piled into Malia’s front room for photos and shots, Stiles getting enough of the hand lube on Isaac’s face for him to make a decent attempt at murder before Scott separated them and chased everyone out into the garden.

‘Isaac, whose car is that?’ asked Mason, frowning at dark Toyota.

‘Derek’s,’ Isaac replied, twirling the keys around his finger. ‘He owed me one.’

‘Try five,’ snorted Allison, unlocking her own car. ‘Isaac can take four, the rest with me.’

It turned out everyone wanted to ride with Isaac for the sheer pleasure of saying they got to drink in Derek’s car without getting murdered, so Scott and Stiles hopped in with Allison and drove to Lydia blaring an old mix tape Scott had made for Allison the year they started dating.

‘Dude, the xx?’ Stiles snorted, reading the back of the CD. ‘You had it so bad.’

‘Leave him alone,’ Allison laughed, winking at Scott in the rearview mirror, because of course Stiles called shotgun, Allison’s bag and shoes piled on his lap. ‘I loved it.’

‘What can I say, I know how to charm the ladies,’ Scott said breezily, kicking the back of Stiles’ seat. ‘Can we smoke in here?’

They lit up from a packet of battered old Mayfair greens in Allison’s glove compartment and Scott felt so light and alive and happy with himself. He made faces at Stiles in the mirror and laughed at Stiles’ pathetic attempt to blow smoke rings (‘Listen if Bilbo Baggins can do it, so can I.’ ‘Dude, you can’t even aspire to Gandalf?’ ‘Scotty I’m so glad you got the reference that I’m not even gonna have to smack you down for that one.’)

Stiles pursed his lips adorably when he tried to blow smoke rings, and teasing him only made him try harder, Scott found to his delight. His weird, weird delight.

Lydia didn’t exactly open her parties to the public, but word had gotten around like it always did, and invitations had been begged, bartered, or just plain ignored, so by the time they got there the music was already booming and cabs were pulling up. Allison swung round to the back of the house, putting in the security code on the gate so they could park beside Lydia’s car.

‘Welcome, creatures of the night,’ Lydia said, pushing open the back door. ‘Wipe your feet. And yes, I have your damn aconite,’ she said before they could ask, to mass cheering. A round of spiked tequila shots later, and the pack was all smiles. Scott wasn’t sure how many beers Stiles had had at Malia’s but he’d gone past overly-chatty and confrontational Stiles and moved straight to “I love everyone in this bar” Stiles, so it had probably been at least three.

‘Dude, everyone is looking so _hot_ tonight,’ he exclaimed, clapping Scott on the shoulder. ‘I’ve gotta get laid.’

Scott smirked at him. ‘Got your eye on anyone?’

Stiles pretended to think about it. ‘Anyone,’ he said gamely, as though it had been a big decision. ‘Anyone at all, Scott.’

The party was already a roaring success. Danny was on decks downstairs, a girl with pink hair upstairs, and the result was making the floor shake. There were people everywhere, bumping into Scott and Stiles as they roamed the house, but Scott instinctively knew where his pack was, and they found them one by one.

Lydia, looking killer in a red dress with a high neck and no back, was doing body shots with Allison off Isaac’s chest, who was looking faintly mortified but clearly enjoying it.

‘Can I try?’ Stiles asked, eyes sparkling mischievously.

‘Do not come near me, Stilinski,’ Isaac snapped, pointing a warning finger at him.

‘So feisty,’ murmured Stiles, knowing Isaac could hear him. Scott glanced between the two of them, watching Stiles circle the table where Isaac was lying, making suggestive faces at him. He wondered if that was the kind of emotion that could spill over into sexual frustration and eventual, well, sex. Allison might be down with it. She always had a soft spot for Stiles. She might even join in.

Woah. Scott shook his head. He needed another drink. He grabbed a red cup of something and knocked it back, before leaving Stiles to tease Isaac into maybe sex, whatever, he didn’t care anyways.

Malia and Kira were throwing down in the living room, surrounded by seemingly half of Beacon Hills, all grinding to the same ear-splitting bass. They spotted Scott and hauled him in between them. Scott found himself with his hands on Kira’s small waist, smiling and laughing into her hair as Malia let her own hands roam around Scott’s body.

‘Having fun?’ Kira shouted, eyes and smile bright.

‘Yeah!’ Scott yelled back. Literally, yelled, it was necessary. ‘You?’

Kira nodded, beaming again. For someone so usually quiet, Kira came alive at parties. Malia was the perfect partner in crime; they prowled the dancefloor and got involved in everything, and usually ended up dancing on the table. Scott was surprised they hadn’t been lined up at the Isaac Lahey bar. Malia was definitely a navel shots kind of girl.

The music picked up and everyone went crazy, and for a while Scott was entirely lost to it all. The strobe lights made everything look crazy, and he and the girls threw themselves around until more alcohol was necessary. Once out of the crush, Scott checked his phone. Three snapchats from Stiles: two of Isaac’s abs, the other clearly taken by someone else as it showed Stiles bent over Isaac, looking triumphant.

‘They’re doing body shots?’ Malia was looking over his shoulder. ‘Why was I not told?’

He dropped the girls off at the kitchen and gained an elated Stiles. ‘I did it,’ he grinned, draping his arms around Scott. ‘Scott, he was so angry.’

‘No way, he let you?’ Scott laughed, wrapping his arms around Stiles in case he fell. ‘How?’

Stiles shrugged; he was more steady than he looked, but Stiles was a cuddler even when sober. ‘Allison whispered something in his ear. Maybe Isaac’s into pegging. That was definitely lube in her purse.’

‘I thought it was hand lotion?’ Scott asked, brain swirling with images that he didn’t particularly want at the moment, considering he had a very loose and pretty Stiles hanging off him.

Stiles shrugged. ‘ _He_ says,’ he said significantly. ‘Hey, aren’t you on babysitting duty?’

Scott rolled his eyes. ‘Aw, crap,’ he muttered. ‘And I know exactly where they are, too. I need another drink for this.’

Stiles cackled. ‘Wait, wait, are they doing it? _Please_ tell me they’re doing it on Lydia’s bed.’

‘I raised Liam better than that,’ Scott said firmly as they made their way over to the drinks table. Behind them, Kira was shrieking with delicious laughter as Malia straddled Isaac on the table, pouring a liberal amount of tequila on to his chest and loudly inviting everyone to come “sample his wares”. Allison was smoking out the window and recording the whole thing with an evil grin on her face.

Stiles poured them both a generous measure of cupcake vodka. They bashed their cups together, and knocked it back. ‘Ahh.’ Stiles screwed up his face and shuddered. ‘Another?’

Scott nodded, motioning him to hurry up as he fiddled with the aconite packet. They did another, then another, until Stiles was breathing heavily through his nose.

‘One more?’ Scott asked. Liam and Mason still weren’t quite available yet.

‘Give me a minute,’ Stiles said, holding up a finger and bending over slightly.

‘Stiiiiiles,’ Scott said, leaning over him. ‘You ok?’

Stiles straightened up, looking offended. ‘I’m fine,’ he insisted. ‘Give me that.’ He snatched the bottle from Stiles and poured another shot. It was significantly smaller than the first ones had been, but Scott loyally said nothing. Stiles had a beautiful flush on his neck, and his eyes were bright and darting around the room, smiling occasionally at what he saw.

‘Oh god,’ Scott said suddenly. He was linked to his beta in strange ways, but it was usually only a problem when they were in close range. He hadn’t had to worry about anything when he’d been having sex with Kira in the back of her car when Liam had been safely tucked up in bed at home, for instance. But under the same roof was another issue altogether.

‘What’s up?’ Stiles asked, plucking a cigarette out of Allison’s hand as she passed and taking a drag. ‘Babywolf being bold?’

‘Very bold,’ Scott sighed. He watched Stiles shotgun with Allison, who’d grabbed a fistful of Stiles’ t-shirt, with a strange tightening sensation in his chest (and pants).

‘Uh, I gotta go take care of this. I’ll be back.’ Stiles nodded, his expression serious as Allison took her cigarette back but pulled him closer. Scott bit his lip. Stiles’ face, usually so animated, fell into the most incredible beauty when it was still. It always surprised him, and with so much alcohol in him tonight it nearly knocked the wind out of him.

The music changed on the top floor, and with it the type of people. It was currently a strange mash up of EDM and classic rock, and it weirdly worked. There were people hanging out in the stairwell, dancing on the landing, and lying in doorways. Some doors were shut, smoke leaking out from underneath, and several others had socks on the door handles. Lydia had a big house, but on party nights only two rooms got locked - her room and her mother’s, who was happily not here tonight.

Scott stepped over Derek and Braeden, who were arguing enthusiastically with Danny and another guy with glasses and a short beard about which obscure rock band was better. Derek nodded and waved when he saw that it was Scott; the dude was looking roughly a hundred times more relaxed with a beer in one hand and Braeden pressed up against him. She seemed to be leading the debate; Derek was just smiling at her.

Scott followed his reluctant werewolf senses to the back of the house, where Liam clearly thought his alpha couldn’t find him. Time to get schooled, kids.

Scott knocked loudly on the door. ‘Liam, front and centre,’ he called, wincing. Be strong, Scott.

There was a yelp, a thump, and a lot of fumbling. Scott could hear Mason’s heartbeat rabbiting as he scrambled to hide in the en-suite bathroom, and he rolled his eyes.

Liam appeared at the door, shirt on backwards. ‘Hey Scott, hey bro, what’s up?’ Liam folded his arms and tried to smile.

Scott raised an eyebrow. ‘Drug raid. How many packets you use so far?’

Liam shrugged guiltily. ’Just two, I swear. Uh listen, we weren’t doing anything in here - whatever Derek says, he’s lying, I swear - ‘

‘Liam,’ Scott said gently. ‘It’s fine. I’m not here for that. I mean - I presume you’re being … safe …’

Liam swayed slightly and covered his eyes. ‘Scott, please,’ he begged. ‘I’ve gotten this talk from my mom and step-dad already, I don’t need you on my case too.’

‘That’s what alphas are for,’ Scott said, puffing out his chest and grinning. Liam still looked mortified, so Scott laughed and ruffled his hair. ‘Relax, dude. Go have fun. But no more aconite - not for at least another two hours, ok?’

Liam nodded, still flushing but looking relieved. ‘Got it. Thanks, Scott.’

Scott nodded. ‘No problem. Don’t spend all night in there though, ok? We want to see you.’

Liam nodded furiously, red spreading to the tips of his ears.

Scott smirked. ‘Alright then, have fun. Bye Mason,’ he called, and Liam’s head fell into his hands.

Stiles met him at the bottom of the stairs. ‘Oh alpha my alpha,’ he called dramatically, hanging off the bannister. There were lipstick marks on his neck.

‘What have you been up to?’ Scott asked, eyeing him.

Stiles shrugged. ‘Nothing much,’ he said casually, eyes roaming all over Scott’s body. ‘Did you have to separate the babywolf from his boo?’

Scott laughed, the last of the tension seeping out of his system. ‘Oh man, they thought I didn’t know - as if I couldn’t _hear_ them.’

Stiles cackled and dragged him back out on to the dance floor. Time was lost for Scott. All he was aware of was Stiles, drunk and all over him. Being trashed worked for Stiles when it came to dancing; he got all limber and swayed beautifully, just begging to be held. Scott might have had his hands on his hips, but it was just to keep him steady.

That aconite was heavy stuff but it had a slow burn. Scott was sliding further into intoxication and it felt like a warm hug. No more exams, no more studying, no more school. Just sleep and parties and pack and sleepovers and Stiles. There was always Stiles, soft and pale and quick-witted at his side. All long limbs and broad shoulders and stupid moles … stupid, stupid moles, and soft lips. Scott was no stranger to Stiles’ body. You couldn’t grow up in each others pockets without getting an eyeful every now and then. They shared beds, and Stiles windmilled every time. Scott woke up to soft skin against his belly, legs tangled together, almost every weekend of summer and winter break. Now they danced closed together, the crush so great there was no room for Jesus between them.

‘You having fun,’ Stiles breathed in his ear, arms around his neck. He was so warm, every inch of him tantalising and grabbable. Scott nodded, drawing back to look at him. ‘You?’

Stiles paused like he had to think about it, then nodded happily, mouth split in a broad smile. ‘I’m good. Drunk good. You’re good.’

‘I’m good,’ agreed Scott. He was good. He was great, even. He was so good just right here, with Stiles in his arms. They spent so much time with each other, why hadn’t any of that time been spent doing exactly this? This was great, this was -

‘Wanna go upstairs?’ Stiles had leaned in again, voice husky in Scott’s ear. Scott’s heart shot up into his throat. He drew back again, trying to see if Stiles was joking. Stiles was wearing the same expression he’d worn when he was looking at Allison in the kitchen, but there was something darker in his eyes that made Scott suddenly restless, like his skin was too tight.

‘What?’ he asked, stalling. Stiles moved closer, and Scott recognised that face now. That was Stiles’ game face. These were Stiles’ moves, only they shouldn’t have been this good - Stiles was off his face drunk - and he should have been laughing and blushing or something. Nothing like this serious, sensual look Stiles was giving him from under his eyelashes. There was suddenly a terrible need coiling in the pit of Scott’s belly; this fuse that was about to be lit, and Stiles was hot gunpowder all over him.

Stiles shifted, and Scott’s fingers found themselves brushing the hot skin of his back, just above the waistline of his jeans. It set off sparks that he’d never felt before from touching his best friend.

‘Come on,’ mouthed Stiles, the corner of his mouth lifting almost imperceptibly. He leaned in again, lips brushing Scott’s cheek, hands tangling in his hair. Stiles’ breath tickled his ear. ‘Play with me.’

They were both drunk. That was established. They both wanted something from each other, Scott rationalised, as he allowed Stiles to lead him off the dance floor. This was ok. This was more than ok. Even if this was a stupid mistake that could potentially ruin their friendship forever, Scott felt like he’d seen enough brutally tempting glimpses of Scott’s ass and dick over the years to make him want to definitely absolutely one hundred per cent take that risk.

He was practically gasping for Stiles by the time they got upstairs. The door was locked, but Stiles had the key.

‘I admit I had an ulterior motive for getting all up in Isaac’s business,’ he said, fumbling to get the key in the lock.

‘I won’t tell if you won’t,’ Scott said, and then the door was open. They scrambled inside, slamming the door behind them. It was dark and smelled like girls - and Stiles.

They hesitated before each other. Stiles probably couldn’t see him too well, but Scott could make out the look of barely-contained desire on his friend’s face. And hesitation.

‘It’s ok,’ Scott whispered, the music much quieter now that they were in here. ‘I want to - but we don’t have to-‘

Stiles silenced him with a kiss that very nearly missed his lips. They both staggered, steadied themselves, and then Scott was able to take Stiles face in his hands and kiss him properly. God, he was so beautiful. So soft and warm against him, hands coming up to circle around Scott’s neck like they’d been doing this forever. Really, they had been. They’d been playing this game for years, the two of them. They’d just never put it in the back of the net, until now.

‘You taste so good,’ Stiles whispered, when they drew back for breath. ‘Why does that not fucking surprise me. You’re like - made of rainbows or something, come here.’ He pulled Scott towards him, muffling Scott’s laughter with his lips.

Suddenly everything in the room was a hundred degrees hotter and Scott wanted very much to take off all his clothes. Stiles was, as usual, thinking along the same lines. Hands crept under Scott’s shirt, pulling it off over his head, then went to his jeans. Scott nearly buckled right there, because this was Stiles, but Stiles kissed him again and all was forgotten except the struggle to get as naked as possible.

‘You look so fucking hot in that black shirt,’ Stiles muttered, sounding angry of all things. ‘It was so hard not to jump on you dude, right there in your room, when you were putting it on. I just wanted to rip it the fuck off.’

‘You should have,’ gasped Scott, fingers clutching Stiles’ waist as he bit kisses into his neck. ‘God, your mouth … It would have made me feel better about wanting to knock you off your chair last night and - uhh - pin you to the ground or something.’

Stiles moaned and it was like all the fires of hell were coming up to claim Scott. ‘God, I could kill you for taking this long.’ He pushed Scott back until he was against the wall, tearing off his own t-shirt so fast Scott barely saw it happen. ‘I would have climbed you like a tree years ago.’

‘Please do something better with your mouth,’ forced out Scott, trying to breathe through the sensation of Stiles sliding his hands all over his body. Scott said a silent prayer of furious thanks for his werewolf eyesight, because nothing on earth would have been worth missing the look Stiles gave him just before he dropped to his knees before him.

Scott pressed his lips together as Stiles unzipped him slowly. He nosed at the front of Scott’s briefs, tracing the hard length of him almost thoughtfully. Scott had been practically half-hard all night, and ever since Stiles had whispered in his ear on the dance floor Scott had been dealing with a serious situation down there.

‘Nice,’ he heard Stiles murmur appreciatively.

‘Glad you approve,’ breathed Scott.

‘Yeah,’ Stiles said, slipping his hand inside Scott’s underwear, the other hand tugging down his jeans. ‘An excellent dick you’ve got here Scotty. Most suitable for tonight’s purposes.’

‘Shut up and blow me,’ Scott said, knowing it was what Stiles would love to hear. Scott watched, transfixed, as Stiles took him out and pressed those lips, those fucking beautiful, soft, haunts-his-dreams lips to the tip of Scott’s cock.

‘Fuck,’ Scott whispered. This was going to wreck him, entirely. Then Stiles bent his head over Scott’s cock and everything went crazy. Lights seemed to pulse behind Scott’s eyes as he watched Stiles suck him off, feeling his tongue lick the underside of his cock before pulling back to flick the tip like it was a goddamn ice cream cone for Stiles. He took more of him in, making tiny gagging noises as he did so. Scott wanted to tell him he didn’t have to go all pornstar on him if he didn’t want to, but the ball was so far in Stiles’ court now that Scott couldn’t even see it anymore.

Stiles’ lips were stretched around his cock, and everything was hot and wet and impossibly good. Scott bit his knuckle and tried not to blow his load all over Stiles’ face, because that would be both rude and a waste.

‘Stiles - you are way too good at - fuck, I’m getting close,’ he warned desperately, because there was no delicate way of saying it.

Stiles pulled off with a wet pop - Scott nearly whimpered - and stood up. ‘Yeah, that was good,’ Stiles commented, as though his voice wasn’t shaking. ‘Ten out of ten, would blow again. Ok, your turn.’

Stiles ducked in for a sinful, filthy kiss, pressing himself up against Scott, who could taste himself on Stiles’ tongue, and fuck if that wasn’t what his wildest dreams were made of.

Stiles pulled back and looked at Scott with wide eyes. ‘Make me come,’ he said, voice shaking with desire.

Scott had never thought of himself as an overly violent or passionate person, but clearly Stiles was a massive, glaring exception. He bent and swept Stiles up, grabbing him just under his ass and lifting him with a grunt. Stiles yelped and then laughed as he was thrown over Scott’s shoulder. ‘Dude, are you _Tarzan-ing_ me?’ he exclaimed.

Scott could feel his heart hammering through his skin. He deposited Stiles gently on the bed, scattering coats and bags to the floor. ‘Yes, if you want,’ he said simply, before lowering himself over Stiles and pressing as much of their bodies together as he could manage without suffocating him. Their limbs tangled and clutched each other, skin hot and slick with sweat as they found purchase wherever they could. Scott had a feeling that in the future they would have so much time - all the time in the world - to explore each others bodies. He would get intimately acquainted with the mole on Stiles’ hip, be on a first-name basis with his cock (it was called Solo, which everyone teased him about as being code for virgin, but Scott knew was exclusively about that dude from those dumb movies Stiles was always nagging him to watch. He’d looked up clips on YouTube and figured it out).

But this right here was about sex. Pure, raw need was running unfiltered through his veins and he was consumed with the desire to make Stiles his, and to be claimed by Stiles in turn. They’d always belonged to each other. This just made it better.

Scott’s jeans were mostly off but Stiles had yet to fix that situation. Their hands knocked against each other in a race to get each other both fully naked, and then it was just skin, and sweat, and desperate, needy moans and gasps as they found each other’s sweet spots.

‘You are a terrible person,’ Stiles babbled as Scott sucked on his nipple. ‘Terrible. Why does everyone think you’re _nice_ \- you’re _awful - oh GOD_.’ His hands flew to Scott’s hair, digging in and tugging it desperately as Scott found out that Stiles did indeed have the most sensitive nipples in Beacon Hills.

Their cocks were hard and flush against their chests. Stiles was grinding his body upwards, desperate for friction, but Scott held back, pinning him with his legs. He didn’t want to get distracted into coming all over Stiles’ chest before he even got a chance to fuck him properly, and he was way too wound up as it was.

Stiles mouth did its fair share of damage too. They rolled around on the bed, half wrestling and half making out, and everywhere Stiles’ mouth touched it left a hickey. Scott wished they’d stay longer than the few minutes it took for them to heal, just so he could have some physical reminder that this had actually happened, besides the amazing fucking visuals he was getting of Stiles climbing all over him.

‘I need you,’ Stiles murmured clumsily. ‘I need you like, inside me. Can we do that.’

Scott didn’t know if he was physically equipped to make Stiles’ first time as good for him as he deserved, but he was game enough to try. There was no refusing a naked Stiles, flushed with swollen lips, lying underneath him and kissing his neck. ‘We need, uh, supplies,’ Scott managed to say, stroking Stiles’ cock - and it was a great cock, Stiles didn’t give himself enough credit. He looked around the room. ‘There has to be a condom in here somewhere.’

‘On it,’ said Stiles immediately, scrambling out from underneath Scott, who collapsed to the bed. He felt like if he tried to get up he’d fall over, or just tackle Stiles the minute he bent over. ‘Found one,’ Stiles said about twenty seconds later. ‘And - oh, I guess this will come in handy. Literally.’

Scott blinked, went over the sentence, and groaned. ‘If we use all of Allison’s hand lotion, _she’ll know_. And it’s not proper lube, is it?’

‘Scott it doesn’t _say_  “for external use only”!’ Stiles protested. ‘That’s fair game to me. Did you know the ancient Greeks used olive oil? I can get some olive oil from the kitchen, Scotty, if you’d prefer. Or we can use this perfectly good hand lube that we have right here, have a great time, and come out smelling _literally_ like roses at the end of it.’

Scott rolled over, grinning at the ceiling. ‘And what if Allison and Isaac want it for tonight?’

The bed dipped as Stiles climbed back on to it. He pressed a kiss to Scott’s knee cap before advancing up. ‘Then that is just … too … bad.’ He said, kissing his hip, his chest, and finally his mouth after each word.

‘Well I guess Isaac will just have to make do with olive oil then,’ Scott murmured, nosing at Stiles.

‘Perfect,’ Stiles said, opening the hand lube with a loud crack. ‘Ouch, it’s cold. Sorry Scotty but this is going on your dick regardless.’

‘I’m cool with it,’ sighed Scott happily. Stiles straddled Scott’s waist and squirted a serious amount out on to his hand. It really did look more like lube than lotion. Then Stiles reached around behind himself, and Scott made a small noise of protest.

‘Wait, don’t you want me to - ‘

‘Scott, with all due respect,’ Stiles said, a look of drunken but confident concentration on his face, ‘I’m the professional here. I’ve been putting stuff up my butt for years. Shut up, mostly fingers, but I’m definitely the most qualified for this job.’ He looked at Scott’s face - which hopefully wasn’t as disappointed as Scott was briefly feeling - and his expression softened. ‘Don’t worry,’ he said, smiling. ‘I am absolutely going to make you eat my ass out for at least two hours at the next available opportunity. Until I’m screaming into the pillow, Scotty. But right now time is of the essence, and I want you to fuck me immediately, so hows about I take care of my end and you just - ahh - yeah, nipples,’ he finished in a high-pitched whine as Scott returned to the supremely enjoyable task of making Stiles squirm and moan.

He had to break off, however, to watch the look on Stiles’ face as he fingered himself. His mouth hung open, his eyes fluttered shut, and he thrust back on to his hand, moaning softly. All Scott could to was run his hands over his chest, pressing kisses wherever he felt like. He ran his hands over the soft curves of Stiles’ ass until he found what his hand was doing. Stiles had two fingers curved inside himself, spreading himself open, getting his ass ready for Scott. He wasn’t worthy. Scott glanced down dubiously at his cock, wondering if it deserved the honour.

Yeah, he was still drunk. But he definitely wasn’t forgetting this any time soon. Stiles was breathing hard as he fucked himself open, head dropping forward. Scott sat up more so he could hold him, feeling Stiles body tense and move on him, and it was more intimate this way than Scott could have ever believed. Then Stiles was raising himself up and adjusting his position until Scott’s cock was behind Stiles now, pressed against his ass. He had the condom ready, and Stiles took it from him. Then they were looking into each other’s eyes, lips brushing, noses bumping. Somehow the moment had become incredibly tender instead of mind-meltingly hot (it still was, but there were emotions now). Scott took Stiles’ face in his hands again, smoothing his thumbs against his cheek. Stiles pressed his face into Scott’s palm, eyes slipping shut almost bashfully.

‘You ok?’ Scott asked, in this tiny private moment of sanity between them before things got crazy again. Stiles hiccuped suddenly, and it startled nervous laughs out of the pair of them.

‘Yeah,’ he smiled, nodding. ‘Yeah, I’m good.’ Then Stiles was sliding down on to his dick, one hand holding him in place, and the world was falling away from Scott, with only Stiles to keep him anchored. It was so, so tight - impossibly so. Scott’s mouth dropped open and his hands gripped Stiles as he continued to sit, easing himself open on Scott’s cock.

‘Holy shit,’ Scott breathed. ‘Jesus. Fuck that’s amazing.’ Stiles was whimpering, but he wasn’t in pain. His head was thrown back, one hand still holding the base of Scott’s cock, the other braced against his shoulder. He looked so fucking beautiful. Scott was never going to be able to look at him the same way again, and frankly he thought it was a fucking tragedy he’d never seen him like this before.

Slowly, torturously, Stiles began to move. His thrusts were languid but deep, and Scott felt like it was his brain being squeezed along with his cock. It was almost impossible to move with him - it was just so much - but then Stiles shifted the angle slightly and gasped, and that sound was like a bolt of electricity. With a groan, Scott sat up and clutched Stiles to him. They fell against each other, mouths crashing together, lips and tongue and teeth meeting in a frantic kiss as their bodies lit up, becoming raw, wild, electric. Stiles ground his hips against Scott as he bottomed out, and Scott finally figured out what to do as he thrust up into Stiles. Every gasp, every moan, he caught them on his lips, tasted them on his tongue. He pushed himself inside Stiles, and Stiles fell apart in his lap.

Stiles rode him like a pro, but Scott could feel a surge inside of him - he needed to move. When he flipped them, he kept Stiles’ hips angled up so he could fuck down into him. Stiles was getting loud - so fucking deliciously loud. Groans and cries that Scott could just about identify as belonging to his best friend echoed around the room along with the slap of skin on skin. Scott had his arms wrapped around Stiles, his face buried in his neck, losing himself in the heat and the noise and the scent of sex and Stiles all over him. Aconite, what aconite. He was more intoxicated from Stiles than he could be on any drug or drink.

Stiles was jerking himself off, cries trailing off into little whimpers now as Scott understandably lost control. The slide of his cock in Stiles’ ass, the lube warm and dripping now, let Scott go faster, as fast as he wanted. Stiles was begging for it, obscenities falling from his tongue with every thrust. Some part of Scott reminded him that he really wanted to feel Stiles come, but he wanted to be the one to do it. He reached down and prised Stiles’ hand away from his cock, and then pinned them both above his head with one hand. The other he used to lift Stiles’ ass again slightly, getting that angle just right so he could pound down on Stiles’ prostate. Stiles’ mouth opened in a wordless howl after the first thrust; his voice broke on the second.

‘Come on Stiles,’ Scott grunted, sweat rolling down his back. His thighs slammed into Stiles’ ass as he fucked him, wrenching beautiful yelps and cries out of him with every thrust. ‘Come on my cock. I want to see you come from just this, from just my cock.’

Stiles’ voice was strained, wrecked. He sobbed out Scott’s name as Scott drew out fast and slammed back in hard, pushing him further and further over the edge until his head shot up, orgasm rippling through him, white spurts shooting out on to his chest. Scott had felt it, that moment when he’d hit Stiles’ prostate again, how it had gotten Stiles off so hard he could hardly breathe through it. His pulse skyrocketed - he was close, so close - but he pulled back and held Stiles as he shuddered, until he was spent and limp in his arms.

Slowly he slid back in, pressing a kiss to Stiles’ lips as he did so. Scott felt like he’d won every prize tonight; at this stage, an orgasm was just the end credits. He’d already seen the whole damn show. He fucked slowly into Stiles, dropping his hips back down to the bed, and just letting the knowledge that Stiles had come purely from Scott’s cock in his ass send him spiralling, blind, into his own orgasm.

There was a lot of white-noise for a while. They lay in each others arms, Scott’s cock still buried inside Stiles, their bodies sticky and hot and absolutely soaking the sheets. It had been almost too much, the alcohol and then everything else. Scott was barely conscious - he wasn’t sure about Stiles - but someone had to be the grown up here, so he got up and sorted out their clothes and the condom, wiping them up as best he could and hoping that no one wanted to sleep in this particular bed tonight. He felt light-headed and deliriously happy. Honestly if a gang of rogue werewolves had bust through the door at that moment, snarling for Scott’s blood, he probably would have tried to hug them.

Stiles was indeed very sleepy, but they managed to get back into their respective clothes, stealing lazy kisses whenever they brushed off one another. Scott was too wrecked to even bother figuring out what any of this might mean, but right now all he could think about doing was getting them into a clean bed where they could sleep it off and wake up in each others arms.

Both their phones were located, thank god. Scott called a cab, and then text Malia to cancel their floor space reservation. As they waited for the cab to call, Scott saw Allison and Isaac creep off upstairs themselves, hand in hand and wearing secretive little smiles. Kira and Malia were, predictably, queens of the party, and had dragged a laughing Lydia, who’d let her hair down out of it’s graceful up-do, up on to the coffee table to dance between them. People all around them danced, some ready to catch them if they toppled.

Everyone was smiling, laughing dancing. Liam and Mason were bopping away happily in the corner, each holding a red cup and the other’s hand. Stiles was snuggled up under Scott’s arm, one of his own flung around Scott’s waist. He was warm, and humming along to the music, and occasionally hiccuping tiredly, but he was giving off the strongest happy vibes Scott had ever felt. Scott’s pulse was still racing, but he couldn’t wipe the stupid smile off his face.

Scott lived closer to Lydia than Malia did, so the cab was short and cheap. They stumbled up the walk, both muttering to each other and making very serious plans to bike over to Malia’s the next day for a world summit and jeep retrieval and possibly snacks. They whispered to each other to be quiet when they got in, both forgetting that Melissa was working nights and wasn’t there anyways. They tip-toed up the stairs, large glasses of water in hand for early morning rehydration, and swapped sweaty clothes for clean, dry sweats and t-shirts, before falling on to Scott’s warm bed.

‘I feel like we should shower,’ Scott murmured, as Stiles wriggled under his arm.

‘Effort,’ he mumbled, draping an arm across his chest. Their legs were tangled together again. ‘Dude, I think I used all of Allison's hand-lube.’

‘Yeah, and my dick smells awesome. Good call.’

‘It was a good call.’

‘One of your best, even.’

‘Bro.’

‘Bro.’

‘Kinda love you.’

Scott paused, feeling Stiles’ heartbeat kick up a few notches in the silence.

‘Me too,’ he whispered, pulling Stiles closer. It was the only serious moment before they fell asleep, but everything felt much better, Scott felt, having said it.

**Author's Note:**

> the usual thanks to my cuties [Autumn](http://autumnsedai.tumblr.com/) and [Alfie](http://unfortunatelyderek.tumblr.com/)
> 
> I'm on [tumblr](http://thetrojeans.tumblr.com/) and [twitter](http://twitter.com/lazarusthefirst/)>


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